


Marooned

by breakfastbeebo



Series: Ryden One-shots [11]
Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Claustrophobia, Comfort, Established Relationship, M/M, Panic Attacks, Pre-Split
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-31
Updated: 2017-01-31
Packaged: 2018-09-21 04:48:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9532121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breakfastbeebo/pseuds/breakfastbeebo
Summary: Crowds are not Brendon’s friend. Well, they are typically filled with his friends, but are no friend to his anxiety. Crowds have the ability to make Brendon feel separated from everyone else- and sometimes they do just that, leaving Brendon stranded and scared surrounded by a sea of faces recognition couldn’t salvage and smiles couldn’t shift back an inch.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt originally from @servecobwebheadaches on Tumblr. All idea credit goes to them oxox

There was a light knocking on the hotel door, gentle and kind. Brendon stirred awake but never opened his eyes. They knocked again. Hopefully they’d get the hint and just come in; he didn’t have to ask permission every time. “Brendon. Brendon, you have to get up.” Of _course_.

“I _just_ fell asleep.” He complained, sitting up slowly and running a hand over his face.

“I know, but we have to start moving.” Ryan was always kind with wakeup calls. Mostly because everyone was so irritable during pre-dawn travel days that he was merely attempting to keep the peace. It was his turn to be the mediator. “You can sleep on the bus.”

“Fine.” Brendon muttered, pushing his covers back and climbing out of bed. All the lights were off and the sliver of sunlight peeking out over the surrounding buildings did nothing to illuminate the space around him. The only light in the room pooled in under the door from the hallway; Brendon could see Ryan’s feet standing in front of the door, waiting for him. Another pair stepped up quickly, Ryan’s stepping to the side.

“You can’t just- like _this_.” A fist pounded the door heavily. “You better be down in that lobby in five minutes or I’m making you walk to Tucson, you hear me?”

“Alright! Alright!” Brendon yelled, voice muffled as he pulled a shirt over his head. “I’ll be there. Calm down.”

“Five minutes.” They repeated, their feet stepping away and leaving Ryan again.

Already, awake for less than a minute and he was being rushed. He understood they all had a schedule and couldn’t just waste time, but being rushed when he barely had both eyes open made him feel like everything was out of his control; he’d never keep up. Not a good way to start a 20-hour day.

Since Brendon had crashed right as he got to his room the night before, he had very little packing to finish before he could zip up his bag and throw it on his back. Lastly, he grabbed his glasses- smudges and all- and reached for the door. The light from the hallway stung his eyes as he swung the door open. He squinted and attempted to offer a smile to Ryan leaning in the doorway, a pleasant smile on his own face.

“Good morning.” He was too chipper. Brendon’s smile fell to a grimace.

“Why are we traveling this early?” Brendon replied, slamming the door behind him and pushing his glasses on his face roughly. “I’m exhausted.”

“You and me both.” Ryan sighed, letting honesty leak through his bright tone. “But once we’re on the bus we can go back to sleep.” He placed an arm around Brendon and pulled him into his side, promising him what was only a few minutes away.

Brendon rested his head on Ryan’s shoulder and walked beside him to the elevator. Their lack of motion as they waited for the car to reach their level was almost enough to lull Brendon back to sleep, his eyes sinking closed as the doors opened. He stepped forward blindly, letting Ryan guide him forward. The elevator sank back down six floors and Brendon shook himself awake as it slowed and beeped at the lobby. The doors opened and the two of them stepped back out, Ryan’s hand squeezing Brendon’s shoulder as Zack’s voice bounced around the high ceiling of the lobby.

“Ah, perfect. A minute early. Blessed with your presence.” He clapped and the sound was like thunder, Brendon wincing at each rumble in his bones. He was there, Brendon didn’t know why there had to be a constant timer. He was there and it was fine. Everyone would get in the bus and the timer could slow down; there wasn’t much he could do but sit and wait. Waiting couldn’t be controlled.

“Sorry.” Brendon said quietly, hoisting the straps over his shoulders higher and finding his place beside Spencer, and still beside Ryan, in their small huddle. Ryan looked at him briefly, turning his head a fraction of a degree toward him, measuring his expression carefully without directing any extra attention to it.

Brendon was hoping there would be food on the bus; his stomach began to feel unsettled, his throat feeling tight and mouth tasting bitter. That’s what he got for getting forty-five minutes of sleep, he thought, nodding along mindlessly to Zack’s briefing.

“-about a twelve-hour drive, so don’t ask me when we’ll be there, alright? Now, we didn’t get the okay to pull the bus up in front of the building, so it’s parked at the end of the block. _Don’t_ get lost.”

“It’s three in the morning.” Spencer stated. “Where could we possibly go?”

“I have to check you out, so just don’t do anything stupid until I catchup.” Zack rephrased, allowing a laugh to echo in the lobby. “Deal?”

“Deal.” They all responded, nodding and heading for the doors.

As they approached the frosted glass doors, a shuffling dark mass began to grow behind it. Brendon thought he could _feel_ it moving, rumbling just outside the door. Brendon was first in line to reach the door, but he stepped back, something in his stomach twisting at the palatable static coming through to them. Their figures could, without a doubt, be seen through the door, the mass suddenly gaining a collaborative voice, muffled shouts attempting to reach them. Brendon couldn’t count visually, but he could hear more people than he cared to imagine. He stepped back from the door and out of Ryan’s reach.

“I can’t go out there.” He breathed, his eyes fixed on where the two doors met, handles even with one another. He watched it with the prayer that neither door moved; the mass would stay on the outside. “I can’t.” They all stood around the door awkwardly, Brendon stepping out of the eyesight of the _creature’s_ thousand eyes.

“What are you doing?” Zack called from the desk. “Go!”

“We can’t.” Spencer replied, gesturing to the door and then vaguely at Brendon. He was gripping his bag straps tightly, the coarse fabric rubbing against the palms of his hands. It stung, but Brendon couldn’t bring himself to stop. He kept envisioning himself standing perfectly still, about to move out the door, but his feet were cemented to the floor and his hands moving from orders other than his own.

“We don’t have time to wait it out.” Zack replied, ghosting an apology. “I saw the crowd earlier, it’s _maybe_ ten or fifteen people from the show last night. They just never left. It’s fine. I’ll be right behind you.”

“No.” Brendon muttered, the word escaping before he could do his typical alterations, making them more appropriate for people other than himself. “No.”

“Brendon, we don’t have _time-_ ”

“Guys, don’t. I can do this.” Ryan held a hand up to the voices beyond them, Brendon’s eyes not straying from the door handles to look. Ryan placed a hand on Brendon’s shoulder lightly, his fingers the only thing touching him; no grip, no pressure, no captivity. “Hey. You’re okay.” Brendon shook his head mutely. The creature outside the door was doubling _, tripling_ in size, the rumble of its voice making Brendon shudder, a quiet whine rising in his throat as he went to speak. “You can do it. I’ll be with you the whole time. Just to the bus- _maybe_ a block.” Surely it could outrun them. “You can do it.” Ryan lifted his hand from Brendon’s shoulder and let it hang down by his side. Brendon gripped it without thinking, instinct taking over. “Okay?” Brendon nodded quickly, hoping to convince himself.

“Yeah. Yeah, sure.” He stepped forward slowly, watching Spencer’s hand reach for the door. The wave of noise rushed in through the small crack in the door, the force knocking the wind out of his chest. Taking another full breath felt impossible as he crept closer. The chatter rose louder into a full roar as they appeared in the open door. There were more than fifteen people. Brendon quickly looked at Ryan to confirm that all the screaming faces and hastily moving hands were in fact there and not just a figment of his imagination. The slack and stunned expression consuming Ryan’s face was all Brendon needed to see. He at least knew it was real. Didn’t make it any better though. Didn’t quiet the wave of sound that crashed over them, blocking out the sounds of the city and even the sound of their own voices. All Brendon could hear was his name.

“Brendon! Brendon over here! Over _here_!” It seemed like every person was speaking to him at once, slips of paper and shaking hands reaching out to grab him. Brendon was about to take a step back when he felt a firm hand on his shoulder; Zack.

“Come on. We’re on a schedule.”

There went time. And Brendon’s control. He had no say in the matter. He had to walk into the crowd without any moment’s notice. His hands were shaking, his feet were unsteady, his breathing was shallow and impossibly short, and his nose began to sting, his eyes watering involuntarily. No no no no. Not here.

“Ryan-” Brendon’s voice was drowned out by the rise in cheers as they began to walk forward. Jon went first, grinning at the people that stopped him, but vaguely pointing down the street, explaining their hasty exit. Brendon stayed close to Ryan’s side, following his lead for the second time that morning. As Brendon left the safe distance of the hotel doors, he noticed an important part missing to their scene: a barricade. There was nothing holding them back. The mass was able to change and reform as they moved down the sidewalk; it wasn’t contained. It wasn’t controlled.

Brendon barely made it out from under the awning when there was a foreign hand on him. It was light, just trying to get his attention, tapping his arm quickly and slowly wrapping around the fabric of his sleeve. He turned to look at them, twisting his face into a smile as he attempted to pull his arm out of reach. He went to do the same as Jon, point at their bus and get away from them quickly and quietly, but as he raised his one free hand, another hand grabbed it. A hand emerged from the mass and gripped his hand without mercy, their fingers curling around his shaking hand and testing the strength Brendon no longer had.

Suddenly, his shoulders were bumping against someone other than Ryan, the mass swooping around to block off the door behind Zack and following them forward. Brendon tried to tug his hand from the mass, but as he released Ryan’s hand to push the other hand off him, someone slipped beside him. He no longer could see Ryan or the door or the sidewalk or even his hands in front of his face. His glasses were jostled off his nose as he finally yanked his hand free, another person grabbing his shoulder to hold him closely for a picture. Brendon tried to smile but the grip was squeezing him into the girl’s side, crushing his ribcage and pushing all his breath out in a muted call for help.

“Ry-”

“Brendon!” Ryan shouted, somehow hearing him or just instinctively knowing. “Brendon! Hey, don’t crowd him! Please, please don’t crowd!” Ryan cried. The crowd around Brendon moved oddly, suddenly bumping into him harshly, some foreign body rearranging them. “Brendon, I’m here!”

Brendon was clambering for the glasses hanging off his ears, trying to push them on and find Ryan in the horrific swarm of face, but found that they didn’t add much clarity through his tears. He didn’t even notice he was crying until each attempt at a breath came out in a shuddering sob, his hands going up to cover his face, and attempting to cover all of theirs too.

“Hey! Hey! Back up!” Brendon felt a strong hand grab onto his backpack, tugging on it sharply and causing his hands to fall from his face to attempt to pull on his straps and slide out of the bag. “Brendon, come on! Let’s go.” It took him a moment to recognize Zack, even as he turned to look at him. Brendon let himself be pulled backwards. Even in his clouded vision, the sight of the crowd shrinking and falling away caused him to finally gasp for air. The breath made his entire chest swell, but everything else collapse upon exhale.

Ryan grabbed him first. “Hey! Come on, I’ve got you. You’re almost there. Look, there’s the bus.” Ryan was pointing, but Brendon’s head was hanging down, staring at his feet. He was watching the sidewalk pass under him, proving he was moving. Each step was safety. He listened to his, Ryan’s, and Zack’s footsteps lead him on a calming loop. One two three. One two three. “You’re almost there.” One two three. One two three. One two. One. “We’re here. You made it, Brendon. All good. No one else but us.” Ryan’s hand rubbed circles on his back slowly, trying to give Brendon a soothing pattern that matched his subtle rocking.

Brendon forced himself to look up, only to see four faces crowded around him, hands and arms out to him. He didn’t look at them. He kept his head down again and started for the door of the bus, gripping the railing up the stairs with a feeble hand and having to practically hoist himself up on the first step. A hand gripped his backpack again, but he just jerked his arms back and let himself slip out of it, turning up the landing of the stairs and disappearing into the dark bus, none of the lights on yet. Or purposefully left off for his benefit, but he doubted anyone knew about that. He felt around for a bunk and tried to sit down on it, only sliding off and falling to the floor, throwing his glasses on the mattress behind him. He stayed there, pressing his back against the hard surface as he pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes.

“Brendon?” He preferred to be in silence, but the quiet voice was welcomed. “Brendon, can I come in?” He mumbled in response, the sound being the only thing guiding Ryan through the dark to him. “I can’t really see you that well, Bren. You gotta hold a hand out for me.” Brendon kept his eyes clenched closed, but let one hand move away from his face to feel around and turn on the light in the closest bunk. He could _feel_ it on the back of his head, disturbing his blanket of darkness wrapping around him. “The floor? Bren, you gotta start finding more comfortable places to recharge. It’ll probably make you feel better.” He was originally saying it as a joke, his arm grazing Brendon’s as he sat down beside him. He made sure his own movements could be felt, letting Brendon see what he was doing without having to remove his hands.

“I didn’t like that.” Brendon said, the sound of his voice not convincing of anyone otherwise.

“I know.” Ryan sighed, sounding inconsolably remorseful. “I know. I’m sorry. We all thought the crowd was a lot smaller. I didn’t know it went on that long.” Brendon didn’t want to think about how many people were really there, circling him and surrounding him. It’s a miracle he made it out. He could have been trapped, crushed, trampled- “I’m sorry, Bren. But you don’t have to see anyone else for the next twelve hours. You can go back to sleep.” Ryan began brushing Brendon’s hair back from his forehead lightly, his fingers barely touching his skin. “I said we’d both sleep, right?”

Brendon didn’t come up with much of a response. He kept his hands over his eyes, trying to use the lack of imagery to erase everything he had just seen, forgetting the bumping, pushing, _grabbing_. He must’ve nodded; Ryan didn’t get up or leave him. Brendon somehow always did that; Ryan always stayed.

“You’ve had a long day already, you need to get some rest.” Ryan continued, placing a hand on Brendon’s knee and shaking it with a slow rhythm, one that was already in tune with his slow breathing. “Neither of us are morning people.” A flash of light came on in the bus, Brendon resting his forehead against his knees and against Ryan’s hand as he groaned. Already his time was up. Another schedule for how long he could take to calm down. “I know. I know, baby.”

“I’m really tired.” Brendon admitted, turning his head and letting himself open his eyes to look at Ryan. “Can’t I go back to sleep?”

“That sounds like a great idea.” Ryan smiled, nodding and placing his other arm around Brendon’s shoulders. Not getting the least bit angry by the fact Brendon was too distracted to remember what Ryan had said. Or even remember that it was Ryan who had suggested the idea in the first place. “Come on, I’ll help you up.”

“I don’t want to get up.” Brendon argued, looking at Ryan through half-lidded eyes. Everything had been rushing past him, but it was finally slowing Brendon down to an unavoidable level of fatigue. “I can’t.”

“You just want to stay here. On the floor?” Ryan clarified, turning his head to the same degree as Brendon to look at him evenly. Brendon blinked slowly, his eyes fighting to open again. “Okay. We’ll stay here. We won’t move.”

Ryan stretched his legs out and rested his feet on the side of the bunk across from them, settling in the hallway and letting Brendon settle in his side. He placed his hands back over his eyes and leaned his head against Ryan’s chest, the two comforts allowing Brendon to breathe slowly, the air not quickly trying to find a way out of his chest. Ryan’s hand lifted from his shoulder to rest on the back of his head, letting him rest against him.

“You go to sleep. I’ll be here the whole time.” Ryan promised, pressing a kiss into his hair softly before resting his cheek against it. “All twelve hours. I’ll make sure you’re okay.”

Brendon knew there were no dangers in their future. He knew that, of course he did, but it didn’t stop him from being relieved by Ryan’s calming words and voice. Ryan always assured Brendon there wasn’t any more danger. Brendon was waiting for the day it finally wasn’t true, but Ryan seemed to be set on keeping his promises; Ryan was always there. Always there with just the right words and arms Brendon could fall into.


End file.
